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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684540">Will You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo'>nazgularepeopletoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Modern AU Winnant/Bolton :3 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dunkirk (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Modern AU, Surprises, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:21:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Winnant is dreading Valentine's Day and has NO idea what to do for it. Luckily, Bolton has other plans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Commander Bolton/Colonel Winnant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Modern AU Winnant/Bolton :3 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Valentine's Day</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Will You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This can be read as a prequel to my other Dunkirk writers challenge piece, or it can be stand alone. I almost couldn't finish writing this because it was too fluffy and I almost started crying five times.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Winnant was very aware of the approaching holiday, but he was trying to ignore it. Every relationship he’d been in had made a big production of Valentine’s Day and thus far he’d never been able to live up to their expectations. He’d even had a girl break up with him because she’d been dropping hints about roses and he’d turned up with daffodils. He winced just thinking about it.</p><p>So to say that he was nervous about it this year was an understatement. He actually very much enjoyed the relationship he was in with Bolton, and he didn’t want anything to go wrong; he wanted to keep him as long as possible, and, fingers crossed, he was hoping that they would get married one day. Sighing quietly, he focused back on the road, tapping at the steering wheel. </p><p>His phone chimed, and he glanced down at it on the passenger seat. He was late coming home that day, so it was very likely that Bolton was going to make it back before him. He probably should have sent off a quick text to let Bolton know he was running late, but it was a bit late now. </p><p>It didn’t take that much longer before he was in the driveway, having maybe broken a few minor traffic laws. Grabbing his phone, he took a deep breath and let himself in the front door. The house was quiet, most of the lights off except for those in the dining room. That made sense, Bolton liked conserving energy whenever possible, but what didn’t make sense was the continued quiet. There was no greeting, just some muted shuffling. Winnant squinted, dropping his keys in the basket and taking his jacket off before moving through the kitchen into the dining room. </p><p>“Dear, are you in there?” Winnant would have said more, but he stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen. The table was absolutely covered in various kinds of flowers, some real, some silk, all of them shades of pink and red. Bolton was sitting at the end of the table, dressed to the nines and bouncing his leg. He stood up quickly when Winnant entered the room, reaching over to the wall to flick off the lights. It was then that Winnant noticed the candles already burning amongst the flowers. He flushed.</p><p>“Is this…” he pointed at the table, staring at Bolton with wide, surprised eyes. “Is all this for me?” It was Bolton’s turn to go a little red, which might have been the absolute cutest thing Winnant had ever seen. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at the table for once being the one to avoid eye contact.</p><p>“Yes, it is. I know it’s a few days early but, I figured since I wasn’t going to be here on the actual day we could celebrate Valentine’s now.” Winnant had almost forgotten about the business trip Bolton was being made to go on that started right on the 14th. “I’m just glad that you got home late for once. Won’t you sit down?” </p><p>Winnant blinked out of his thoughts and nodded, going to the other side of the table and sitting gently. He was surprised again when Bolton followed him to his seat, hesitating for a second. He was about to crack a weak joke before the other man cleared his throat, clearly nervous about something.</p><p>“Alright. I know this is cheesy.” Bolton stopped swallowing. “But I’ve been meaning to do this for a while and. I’ve not come up with a better plan than this.” He hesitated again, but before Winnant could respond he dropped to one knee.</p><p>Winnant gasped, shooting to his feet but not moving otherwise. This wasn’t… was he seriously doing this? Was this finally happening? His heart was in overdrive when Bolton made eye contact with him, freezing him even more in place. With a deep breath, Bolton started.</p><p>“Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’ve come to a decision that I really really hope you’ll agree with. I got this last month when we were travelling in Paris,” here he paused and pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket “and I’ve been looking for an opportunity to give it to you ever sense.” He swallowed one more time. “Reginald Winnant, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”</p><p>The room was silent for a good twenty seconds. Bolton was patient, he knew that Winnant generally needed time to process things, so he wasn’t quite ready when he was suddenly tackled on the floor in a move that neither of them were young enough for. Winnant was clinging to him, shaking. Bolton was concerned for a moment before he heard the man whispering a tear soaked stream of ‘yes’ over and over again.</p><p>They stayed there for a while, Winnant’s face buried in Bolton’s neck, soaking his collar. Of all the things he was expecting from this holiday it had not been this. He had hoped but he hadn’t let himself believe that Bolton would actually want to spend the rest of his life with him but now that he had actual proof? He was never going to let it go. When he finally sat back, meeting his now fiance's eyes, he sniffed, a fresh wave of tears cresting over his eyelids. </p><p>“I guess I should give you a proper yes, shouldn’t I? And let,” he cleared his throat. “And let you put that on my finger?” Bolton chuckled, finally able to open the box and slide the thin, rose gold band onto Winnant’s left ring finger. It was inlaid with tiny slivers of diamonds, so when it caught the light in just the right way it would reflect rainbows. They both stared at it for a moment before Bolton lifted Winnant’s chin with his hand, making eye contact one more time before they shared their first kiss of the evening, their first kiss in the next step of their lives. </p><p> </p>
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